The Butterfly Theory
by Xenoglossy
Summary: Peter Pettigrew the night he sold his soul to Voldemort.


Pre Fic Rantings and a Sprinkle of Disclaimer: A Peter Pettigrew Short, oh my?   
One of the things I find unfair about the actual HP novels is that villainous characters are made out to be totally disgusting, unlikeable characters. Very unsympathetic (except for Draco. He's extremely sympathetic... but I think that was just a lucky mistake). Peter, or Wormtail, is one of these. I'm just trying to give some insight on what Peter's reason for turning to the dark side was... and I threw in a bit of Lucius Malfoy for the heck of it.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Butterfly Theory  
Izzy Girl  
  
  
  
  
  
A butterfly flaps it's wings in Northen Europe, Tokyo recieves a Tsunami.  
  
Voldemort flicks a single, evil finger from his secret lair in England, Wizards from around the globe flinch in anticipation.  
  
Sirius Black grins suavely at a group of fourth year Ravenclaw girls. They swoon.  
  
Seventh year Peter Pettigrew, barely a Gryffindor, sneaks out of his dorm after hours and not a soul notices.  
  
Except for one of course, but he had been expecting the boy.  
  
"Will it hurt?"  
  
Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically at the pudgy boy as he leaned casually against the weathered birch trunk. He examined his wand with mild disintrest and replied, "Well, of course it hurts, Pettigrew. How else is Lord Voldemort supposed to alert you without raising suspicion? You can't very well expect him to send a bloody howler."  
  
Peter nodded shakily, "O... okay..."  
  
Lucius had graduated nearly three years earlier, but still pulled the strings as far as Hogwarts Death Eater recruitment went. He kept in contact with old school buddies and had found a surprisingly loyal confident in his former lackey Severus Snape.  
  
When Snape owled him with the news that a Gryffindor had approached him about recieving a Dark Mark, Lucius had nearly fallen off his high-backed reading chair in shock. When the letter went on the further inform that not only was it just a Gryffindor, but Peter Pettigrew, one of the infamous "Gryffindor Four" that had caused him so much trouble in his last four years, he did leave his seat, but only to restrain himself from doing a jig of tirumph.  
  
Pettigrew's motives were sketchy on the surface, but if one was to pry just a little deeper, all became clear.  
  
Peter was part of a tight knit group of Gryffindor students consisting of himself, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and James Potter. The four were infamous trouble makers, but universally adored by all teachers.  
  
James and Sirius were without a shred of doubt the most popular students in the school. James was an honors student and star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team to boot. Sirius, on the other hand, was a well-sought after bachelor. Remus, though quiet and shy, was respected highly and excelled in academics nearly to the extent of James.  
  
Then, there was Peter. The general populance of the school would always whisper about Peter behind his back, and occasionaly to his face. He was a clever student, but was viewed mostly as a dopey sidekick or hanger on to James, Sirius and Remus.  
  
Of course, the three obviously didn't feel that way about him; the four of them had been sharing a dorm for seven years after all; but there is only so much gossip one can take before they break.  
  
It was mostly the fault of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls. The houses got along brightly, even more so compared to the bitter and violent rivilary between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Despite Ravenclaw intelligence (you would imagine them to be above such things...) and the Hufflepuff decency (you would imagine THEM to be above such things...), the houses chattered deceptively among each other at meal times, leaning over the gap between the dining tables and giggling behind sheilding hands.  
  
They saw Peter as an ungly sore in the middle of what would be an otherwise perfect group of attrative, bright, eligible young boys. A weed in the Sunflower feild, to be tugged at gently before ripped, roots intact, from it's base. They tried to make excuses about why he was there. What boys like James, Sirius and Remus were doing wasting their time on boys like Peter.  
  
"He must be a charity case..." they'd mutter.  
  
"Of course. I mean, you know how empathetic Remus is... he probably..."  
  
"And James is always taking those under his wing..."  
  
"They can't really like him, y'know, it's kind of sad..."  
  
"When you think about it, it's actually kinda mean in a way..."  
  
"Well, then maybe it's better poor Peter never finds out..."  
  
Peter's dull, chestnut flecked eyes darted across the Quidditch pitch as he worriedly wrung his hands together. He licked his lips twice.  
  
"W... will he actually... you know... be here?"  
  
Lucius sighed again, "No, of course not, you git. Lord Voldemort has more important things to do with his time. Anyways, you're not here to recieve your mark tonight..."  
  
Peter blinked, "I... but I thought..."  
  
Lucius straightened himself and stalked over to the smaller, younger boy. He glared down at him, brandishing his wand.  
  
"Now listen to me, Pettigrew. I was sent here to tell you that I've got agents keeping an eye on you. You are to report to the Slytherin student Severus Snape every second Saturday or face the consequences. We've some special... work for you, boy, that involves you precious Gryiffindor 'friends'. You'll see soon enough that a mark will only hinder you." he tucked his wand into his cloak and lowered his voice, "I assure you, though you have not taken your vows, we WILL know if you betray us, and there's more than a couple students in this school who have used the Avada Kedavra more than once."  
  
Peter gulped, then nodded, "Ye... yes sir..."  
  
Lucius twisted his lips into an expression halfway between a grimance and a grin. The boy was a bootlicker. All for the better. At least it ensured his loyalty.  
  
"No go." he hissed, waving his hand dramatically. To his great pleasure, Peter Pettigrew's face paled, and he ran.  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
'Did... I make the right choice?'  
  
  
(Remus nearly failed a potions exam. He is close to tears and trying to hide it by sitting face-away, staring out at the window. At the moon again, of course. Sirius groans loudly and makes several untasteful remarks towards Remus's lycanthropy before tackling the boy and rougly forcing him to the ground. He then commands James to cast a laughing charm on the distraught boy and refuses to call him off before Remus agrees to smile more and not stress so much. Four days later, Peter drags his feet back to the dorm. James is laying on his stomach reading. Peter sits down and sighs unhappily. He has failed an Arithemacy assesment. James tips his glasses and tells Peter to study harder.)  
  
  
'James... Sirius... Remus... they... are my friends, aren't they?'  
  
  
(At the Yule ball, sixth year, Sirius has finally talked James into asking Lily Evans out on an official date. At the actual dance, Sirius turns down girl after girl to sit with Peter and Remus. Peter hasn't been asked once and Remus refuses to dance. He finally gives in and waltzes away with some fifth year Hufflepuff. Remus stirs his punch absentmidedly with his pinky and says nothing to Peter. A Ravenclaw girl glances at him from over the shoulder of her Slytherin friend, but is waved off due to inter house rivialry. Remus doesn't notice. The night stretches on and not one girl ever looks at Peter.)  
  
  
'... then why am I doing this?'  
  
  
(James spreads the Mauraders map out on the table and begins tracing lines with his fingers. Directions. Peter isn't quite sure how the whole thing is supposed to work out, but the end result is alcohol slipped into McGonagoll's coffee in the morning. Peter crawls into his hiding space and waits for the signal. The signal never comes. At midnight, Filch finds him and forces him to sweep and mop three entire hallways without using magic. When Peter gets back to the dorms, it is nearly morning. The next day in Transfiguration, Sirus asks: "Peter? Where were you? You messed the whole thing up!")  
  
  
'... all I want... is for them too see some worth in me... I'm not just a hanger on...'  
  
  
(It was decided that if they were to become animagi, they would need a deer, a dog and a rodent of some sort. A rat. James was the most powerful, so by default, became the deer. Sirius and Peter drew straws for who was to become the rat. Peter drew the short straw and momentarily thought that James and Sirius must have planned it... that they must be laughing at him. How fitting, Peter the rat... "Hey..." Sirus said brightly, "If Rem is Moony, that makes James here Prongs. I'd be Padfoot, and Pete..." he staes at Peter for a long moment, "Pete's gotta be Wormtail!" Sirius and James thought it was brilliant: "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs..." Peter hated it.)  
  
  
Peter was quite distraught when he finally stumbled into bed that night. Sirius, of course, was already asleep, snoring loudly, one arm hanging sloppily off the side of his bunk. Remus was getting there, droppy-lidded and curled up into a tight ball. Only James still remained fully concious, and he, as usual, was reading by the dim, clunky muggle "flashlight" Lily had lent him.  
  
Peter fell face first into his pillows and began to sob quietly, squeezing his forearm where he knew he would one day wear the mark of Voldemort. He regreted his choice already, but had the faint, and rather sickening, knowledge that one day, he would embrace it. He grabbed a pillow and shoved his head beneath it, breathing shallowly and letting himself sink into the sweet darkness.  
  
Voldemort, great lord of the dark.  
  
Darkness was all his world would be from that point on...  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
James noticed Peter's unstable emotional state the moment the door creaked open noisily. Peter was a Maurader after all, he knew subtly.  
  
He watched his friend collapse and palyed with the thought of comforting him. He stared at him discreetly over the top of his thick, adventure book for a long while until Peter buried his head underneath his pillows. At that point, he decided against it. Peter wasn't a touchy-feely type person. More often than not, he shied away from people offering him moral support of any kind.   
  
James bit his lower lip and reluctantly turned out his flash light, closing his book without the slightest sound. 


End file.
